


Ma Vhenan

by Biowarenerd



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Action & Romance, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Blood Magic, Blood and Violence, But so does love, Cutting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fights, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Hawke Family Feels, Hawke Has Issues, Healing Sex, Healing takes time, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, It must be done, Love Confessions, Made For Each Other, Merrill being Merrill, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sex Magic, Snarky Hawke, Tickle Fights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-11 12:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11148300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biowarenerd/pseuds/Biowarenerd
Summary: What do you do if you are too afraid to tell the one you love that you love them? What do you do if you are afraid you'll screw it all up? You do what Hawke and Merrill do: you just go with it...and hope it doesn't end in disaster.I noticed the surprising lack of Hawke/Merrill stories out there and so now I'm here to attempt to fill that empty space up. Their stories deserve to be written and if the person to do it needs to be me, then so be it! I'll give it a shot





	1. Lost and Found in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill gets lost looking for something important to her and a certain bearded mage comes to her rescue

CHAPTER ONE

 

It rarely rained at Kirkwall. The arid climate saw to that. It was lucky if it rained once or twice a month. But when it did rain, it poured, coming down in buckets until the streets were all flooded and one could barely walk without slipping. Grey clouds would shroud the city in darkness for a day or more, making it look even more gloomy than normal. And even the bandits and crazy people stayed off the streets whenever it rained. The dirt between the ground tiles became mud and it was nearly impossible to go anywhere without getting your boots muddy. Or in Merrill’s case, it was impossible not to get mud between her toes as she walked barefoot, the only protection for her feet was an ornamental cloth too light to really keep the mud from encasing her feet. 

The only reason she was out in this horrid weather was because she had lost the lucky ring that Hawke had given her as a gift. It was just a simple ring that some random shopkeeper had said would bring luck to whoever wore it, probably in an attempt to sell it. Hawke told her when he gave it to her that he thought she could use some backup luck for a rainy day. And she had lost it. On a rainy day when he had said it would help her. Truthfully, she would have just forgot about it had it not have been a gift from Hawke. She kept everything he gave her, no matter how insignificant it was. He was one of her only friends; one of the only people she knew that trusted her and didn’t freak out about her blood magic. He always found a way to make her smile and he’d always made her feel welcomed and important. And secretly, she had a crush on him. But she’d never find the courage to tell him that. Even if she did, she’d probably screw it up.

She gave a frustrated sigh as she walked, with rain dripping off of her. She was sure she had dropped the ring earlier that day when she was returning from Hawke's estate after he had invited her over for lunch. He had tried unsuccessfully to cook her some elven cuisine but she thought it was a nice gesture. Underneath all of his jokes and sarcastic comments, he seemed genuinely interested in her clan and her heritage; something most humans couldn't care less about. 

She thought the ring might have slipped off her hand when she had fallen near the marketplace in Lowtown. It had been her own fault; she wasn't looking where she was going and she had tripped over her own feet. And because she was in Lowtown, no one stopped to see if she was alright. Which she was used to by now; no one stopped to help an elf in this city. Except for Hawke. He helped everyone who needed help, no matter who they were. It was one of the reasons why she liked him: his inability to not help someone in need.

Merrill pushed the hair out of her eyes which was doing nothing to keep the rain out of her face. She was regretting not taking her staff with her. The markets weren't very far from her home in the Alienage so she had thought she wouldn't need it. But now she wished she could just wave her staff and keep the rain off her. 

She looked up into the sky, her hand shielding her eyes from the pelting rain. Lost in thought, she didn't see the pothole until it was too late. She stumbled, her foot catching in the hole which was filled to the brim with rainwater. She fell to the wet ground, now completely drenched. She cursed and spat out water. She looked down at her palms and saw that she had scraped them when she fell. Blood dropped off her hands along with the water. She growled. Just her luck.

Merrill looked up and could see two figures stepping out of the rain. One carried what looked to be a dagger and the other carried an axe. They didn't appear to be friendly neighbors coming over to see if she was okay. 

Merrill went to stand up but cried out in pain. Her foot was sprained. 

The two figures grew closer until they were no more than five feet away. They turned out to be two human men, each looking like less than stirling company. 

One of them grinned, eyeing her with an almost hungry look. “Aye. Aye. This ‘un will do nicely. She looks nice and juicy.”

Merrill grew afraid. What was he talking about? Were these men going to eat her? 

The man with the dagger took a step towards her, sneering like he had just won a prize. Suddenly, the man froze. Then without warning, the man caught on fire, despite the rain. There wasn't even time for him to scream before he was dead on the ground, smoking. The other man, seeing his companion dead, booked it and ran off. Though he didn't get very far before a lightning bolt shot out from the shadow of rain and struck him. He went down with a sound.

Merrill looked over to where the bolt had come from, with the sudden feeling that everything was going to be alright. 

Just as she expected, Hawke stepped into her field of view, carrying his staff and wearing his armor, with only concern on his handsome face. 

“Merrill, is that you? What are you doing out in this weather? And better yet, what are you doing out in the city without a weapon?” Hawke asked, hurriedly coming to his knees and checking her for injuries. He casted a spell and she could feel her foot healing. 

Merrill hugged him gratefully. “Oh thank you Hawke! I thought those men were going to eat me. They said I looked nice and juicy.”

She heard him growl angrily and tense up at her words. “The filth. DId they hurt you? Did they touch you?”

She shook her head as he helped her stand. “No. You saw to that.”

He sighed. “What if I hadn't been out too? What were you even doing out this evening?”

She held her head high. “I was looking for a ring.”

Hawke laughed. “So you are out in the pouring rain, nearly getting ah, mugged, because of a ring? Huh. Must be some ring.”

“Its the lucky ring you gave me. I lost it somewhere near the markets. I think. I don’t really remember. But I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

Hawke smiled at her. “That might be because you lost it at my house.” he said, pulling the ring out of his pocket and handing it to her. 

Merrill squealed with delight. “You found it! No wonder I couldn’t find it out here.”

Hawke chuckled. “Yeah, Sandal actually found it. He was trying to enchant it when I snatched it from him. I figured you might want it back so I made my over to the Alienage. I saw those two now dead guys trailing someone so I trailed them to see what they were up to. Good thing I did, too.” 

“Thank you Hawke. For protecting me and for the ring.” Merrill said, looking on him fondly.

He shrugged. “It’s fine. What’s so important about that ring that would compel you go searching for it out in this weather? He asked.

Merrill was glad it was raining for once: Hawke couldn’t see her blush in the storm. “Because its the lucky ring, remember? For extra luck.”

Hawke laughed. “You’ve kept that? I gave you that ring like, five months ago.”

“It's important.”

“Why? It's just a ring. Why is it so important to you?” He asked, water droplets falling from his bushy beard. 

“Because you gave it to me.” Merrill said softly, barely louder than the rain.

Hawke stared at her, surprised. He hadn't expected her to be that open. He cleared his throat. “Come on, let's go back to my house; we’ll catch cold if we stay out here any longer and I don't want you going back by yourself without a staff.”

Merrill blinked. “I don't mind the rain.”

He gave her a grin, taking her hand in his and leading her back to his estate. 

“Well I do. Now let's go back and you can warm those tough feet of yours by the fire.”

Merrill stared at her hands entwined in his as they walked. Her hands looked so  _ tiny  _ in his powerful grasp. His hands were rough and calloused from years of training and hard work but they also felt warm, gentle. An image came to her mind of his hands gently massaging her and easing all of the tension she had away. She blushed, feeling her ears get warmer. She shook it from her thoughts. 

When they reached Hawke's family estate, he unlocked the door and they stepped inside the dry, warm mansion. Bodhan and Sandal had already gone to bed but Hawke’s mother, Leandra, was still awake sitting in a chair by a roaring fireplace with their Mabari, Stump, at her feet. Stump gave a quiet welcoming bark to let her know they were there. Leandra raised her head and scowled at her drenched son. Then she smiled as she realized Merrill was with him. 

“Merrill my dear, you're drenched! Oh you poor thing!” Leandra said, standing up to guide Merrill over to an armchair by the fire. “Come, sit by the fire and warm up. Darling, go get Merrill some blankets please.” She ordered Hawke. 

Hawke grinned and walked off up to his chambers to change and to get the blankets. 

Merrill sneezed, shivering. She hadn't realized how cold she had been until she had sat down in front of the fire. 

“What in the world were you doing out in this weather?” Leandra asked.

“Looking for my ring.”

“What ring?”

“The lucky ring Hawke gave me. Turns out I just left it here after lunch today.” She explained.

Leandra nodded.

Hawke returned, wearing a tight overshirt that showed off his bulging forearms and loose shorts that hugged his legs. In his hands were several thick blankets out of his own bed. He draped them over her and she looked away from him, fearing she would blush at the sight of him. Leandra saw the action and smiled. 

“It's late dear. You can stay here for the night if you wish, Merrill.” Leandra offered.

Merrill nodded. “Thank you, Leandra.”

“I'll go and prepare the guest room. Then it's off to bed; I'm beat. Goodnight mother.” He winked at Merrill. “Sweet dreams Merrill. Oh and don't be alarmed if Stump tries to sleep with you.”

She grinned back at him as he left. She glanced over at Leandra and saw that she was smiling broadly at her.

“You like him, don't you Merrill?” Leandra stated.

A blush crept to the cute elf’s cheeks. She looked down at the fire to avoid Leandra’s knowing gaze.

She nodded slowly. “Ye-...Yes.” She whispered, not sure of how Leandra would react.

Leandra was silent for a time, making Merrill think that she was fuming. But then Leandra started to chuckle. “That's good. He'd be devastated if you didn't.”

Merrill jumped in surprise and looked at the older woman. “Wh-what? Why would he be devastated if I didn't?”

Leandra laughed. “Are you serious? It isn't obvious? Hawke is quite smitten with you. Really, have you not noticed?”

Merrill gasped. “Really? He likes me?”

Leliana smiled at her. “Ahh Merrill. Never change. Hawke wouldn't have fallen in love with you had you not been your-. Oops. You didn't hear me say that.” Leandra said, standing up. 

Merrill stared at her. “Wait, Hawke...loves me?”

“It's not my place to be talking about this. Sorry but goodnight Merrill.”

Leandra headed upstairs to her room leaving Merrill alone with her thoughts. 

_ Hawke loves me?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading this! There will be more to come, I promise. But because I am writing like five different stories now, it might take more than a couple days to post the next chapter. Anyway, this story will I will be writing at random; meaning I don't have any particular plan, I'm just going to wing it and see where this goes. But I know it will be fun along the way! Leave a like and please feel free to comment and let me know what you think of the first chapter of Ma Vhenan! :) till next time


	2. Stealing Glances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabela helps Merrill get another look at a nice sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit short. I felt like this was a good size for this chapter

__CHAPTER TWO

Merrill woke up to a loud crash. She leaped awake, expecting an attack. She reached for her staff then forgot she had left it at her home. She looked around wildly before calming down as she realized that no one was in the room with her. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes, wondering what the noise she had woken up to was.   
She slipped out of the comfortable bed in the guest room and stepped outside the room, wearing the same clothes she had gone to bed in.   
Standing out in the middle of the open hall, was Bodhan’s son Sandal. He was holding what Merrill expected to be a rune of some type, which was probably what had made the noise that woke her up.   
Sandal turned to her and gave a toothy grin. “Boom.”   
Merrill smiled at the dwarf.   
Bodhan stepped out of his room and hurried over to his son. “Oh come now, Sandal! Let's go back to bed now; it's late and you are bothering our guest.”   
Bodhan bowed to her. “Terribly sorry if he woke you, Mistress Merrill. The boy must have woken up and gotten bored. He won't trouble your sleep anymore, that's a promise.”  
Merrill smiled. “I don't mind, Bodhan. I wasn't asleep anyway.” She lied.   
Suddenly, Hawke opened the door to his room and stepped out wearing nothing above his waist. Merrill gasped when she saw his well toned abs and bulging arms, his reward for daily vigorous workouts. He had several small scars over his chest from past fights and one long one over his right breast. His hair was even more unruly than usual but it only made him look better. And try as she might, she couldn't stop staring at his perfect body.   
“Now what has Sandal...done…?” Hawke asked, growing silent when he noticed Merrill staring at him. He had forgotten she was staying with them. His felt himself start to blush underneath her intense gaze. She looked like she was studying him and storing away the image of his body for later.  
He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. Which was unlike him. “Are you okay, Merrill?” He asked.  
She nodded.  
“Sandal didn't wake you up or anything?”  
She shook her head, her eyes never left his body as she took in all of it.   
Hawke coughed. “Err, good. I'll just be ah, going back to bed. I'll um, see you in the morning.” He said before twisting on his heels and returning to his room. He passed his mother on the way who winked at him. He swallowed the lump in his throats and closed his door.  
Meanwhile, Merrill took in the first breath she had since he came out. Her heart was beating so fast, how could everyone in the estate not hear it? _Hawke is...he's..,Hawke is so...wow_. She thought as she staggered as if she had been hit.   
_I need to tell Isabela about this! Maybe she can help me see him shirtless again_.  
She went back to her room, slipped under the covers and attempted to fall back asleep. Only it was hard to get some sleep when whenever she closed her eyes she would see Hawke.

“Wait, wait, wait. Stop right there, Kitten. You saw Hawke _shirtless_ last night?” Isabela asked Merrill as they sat at a table in the Hanged Man. Hawke and Varric were over at another table playing a round of Wicked Grace with a crowd of people, laughing and having a good time. It was late in the afternoon, the day after she stayed over at Hawke’s estate. She had just told Isabela what had happened to her the night prior and the sultry pirate had nearly choked on her ale.   
Merrill nodded in affirmation.   
Isabela placed her mug down. “Okay. Details. Now.” She ordered.   
Merrill blushed at the memory. “Oh Isabela, he looked so nice! Sandal had woken us all up with one of his runes and I stepped out of my room to investigate. Bodhan ushered Sandal back to bed and then Hawke just walked out of his room without his shirt on. He looked…” her ears burned with embarrassment. “...hot. I fell asleep with the image burned into my head. He's just so dreamy.”  
Isabela raised an eye. “You and Hawke... something's there, isn't there?”  
Merrill’s blush deepened.   
Isabela gasped. “You had sex with Hawke! Andraste’s fanny pants!”  
Merrill gasped. “Isabela! No, I didn't have… do that...with Hawke.”  
Isabela smiled cheekily at her. “But you want to, right?”  
Merrill looked down at her lap, completely embarrassed.   
“Yeess! Come to daddy!” They heard Hawke shout from across the room as he won the round.   
“Oh come on, you cheated!” Varric said.  
“Varric, we are in the Hanged Man: everyone cheats here.”  
“Err, good point.”  
Isabela and Merrill looked over at the boy's table. Hawke caught Merrill’s eye and winked at her. Merrill blushed and looked away. Isabela caught the exchange and smiled. “You want to see him shirtless again, don't you? I can help with that.”  
Merrill nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes please!”  
“Anything for you, Kitten.” The Pirate said with a wide smile.  
Merrill's eyebrows bunched up. “Wait, how are you going to get him to take his shirt off?”  
Isabela winked. “Easy. Like this.”   
The Antivan stood up and walked over to where Hawke and Varric were. She batted her eyelids at Hawke and gave him an innocent look. “Hawke, I'm really cold in here. Can you please give me your shirt?” She asked, interrupting their game. Hawke quickly took off his shirt without a second glance towards Isabela. “Yeah, yeah. Here ya go. Now kindly go away; you are distracting me from creaming these losers and taking all their money.” He said, completely focused on his card game.  
Isabela nodded her thanks and sauntered back to where Merrill sat slack jawed, twirling Hawke’s shirt in the air. Isabela handed the lithe elf Hawke’s shirt. “Got you a souvenir.”   
Merrill blushed, hiding the shirt behind her as she goggled at Hawke’s bare chest, taking in the hardened muscles that rippled whenever he moved in his seat. Merrill would never admit it, but seeing him like that made her incredibly aroused. She chided herself for feeling so lewd but seeing him made her think of the most dirty things.   
Isabela watched her watch Hawke and smiled to herself. It was obvious to anyone that Merrill was enamored with the playful man. How could anyone not be? Hawke was just one of those people that everyone easily took a liking to. It felt almost natural to like him.   
Merrill sighed happily, leaning her head on her elbows as she gazed admiringly at her fellow mage.   
“Do you think he likes me?” She asked Isabela suddenly.  
“Of course I do, Kitten. Why wouldn't he?”  
“Because… I'm nowhere near as perfect as he is.”  
“Hawke isn't perfect, Kitten. No one is.”  
“I think he is.” Merrill said with a sigh. “He's clever, strong, and wonderful. How could anyone not think he's perfect?”  
Isabela shrugged, swilling down another mug of ale. It was hard to argue with that level of reasoning.  
Hawke gave a sudden whoop and slammed his cards down on the table. “Ha! Read ‘em and weep, fellas! Better luck next time.”  
The others at the table all groaned and handed him their piles of coins. Hawke looked around, as if suddenly realizing he didn't have his shirt on him. He looked very confused. “Okay, I swore I was wearing a shirt when I came in here. Now where is it?” He asked no one, looking around.   
He didn't notice Merrill quickly stuff his shirt in her own shirt and quietly sneak out of the tavern, a blush covering her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will be longer, I swear. And will probably have some fight parts in it.   
> Please leave a comment about thoughts concerns etc. I really enjoy reading comments; they brighten my days :)


	3. Gifts for Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short and sweet chapter. Merrill is adorable

CHAPTER THREE

Merrill sat on her bed, thinking about how horrible she was. She had betrayed Hawke, chosen a demon’s word over his. She had turned on him without so much of a sorry. And she hated herself for it.  
Hawke had recently gotten a letter from the half elf Feynriel's mother, begging him to help him. Feynriel had gotten trapped in some type of nightmare as he slept and so his mother had sent for both Hawke, because he had helped the half elf before, and the Keeper. The keeper had sent Hawke, Isabela, and Aveline into the Fade in order to try and wake the boy up. Ultimateky, Hawke was able to save him and Feynriel chose to go to Tevinter to learn how to better control his abilities. But not before both herself and Isabela turned on him. Isabela had given in to the Desire demon which tempted her with her own ship. And unfortunately, Merrill had given in to a Pride demon who convinced her that with their combined power, they would return the elvhen to its former glory. It was a foolish choice, she knew, but one she made regardless. Even still, she felt terrible about having made it. She could never forgive herself for doing so either.   
She just kept thinking the same thing over and over again. _How can Hawke ever forgive me? I don't deserve his forgiveness. Not after what I did. I doubt he’ll ever forgive me for this, let alone love me now. Elgar’nan, what have I done?_  
She unconsciously clasped her hands together nervously as the thoughts raced through her mind. So much so that she didn't even notice that Hawke was standing in front of her.   
“Merrill?”   
She jumled slightly, wondering how he had gotten inside before remebering that she had given him a key a long time ago.   
She spoke shakily, as if each sound she made tore her throat. “I...I can't believe I turned on you...with the demon...in the Fade...I'm so sorry. Ma seranas.” She took a deep breath. “I'll understand if you can't forgive me.”  
Hawke, perfect Hawke, simply grinned at her and said, “If I held a grudge against everyone who attacked me in a dream, I'd have no friends.”  
Merrill smiled despite her best efforts not to. She looked up into his loving brown eyes. “How do you do that? Make everything better with a smile? Its like magic that doesn't get you in trouble.” She sighed, fdowning again. “I've been so careful in all my dealings with spirits until now. To make such an obvious mistake…” she said as Hawke sat next to her on the bed. She instantly stiffened. He made her nervous whenever he got too close to her. Not because she was scared of him but because he was close. She had no idea what him being too close would do to her.   
She clenched her fists. “It frightens me. It takes so little for a mage to fall.”  
“If you don't mind me asking, what made you give in?” Hawke asked gently.   
Again, Merrill took a shaky breath. “It felt like...every word the demon spoke reached out and pulled at my heart. I didn't want to believe it . But I just...had to.” She stood up in frustration and started to pace her bedroom, needing to release some of her pent up stress somehow.   
“All magic is dangeous. It always attracts...attention. All mages know this.” She stopped and looked at Hawke in a different light. She still saw the same old Hawke that she loved but now in addition to that, she saw her hero; the man who saved her from making a horrible mistake.  
“Thank the Creators you were there…” she said, her ears burning. “It won't happen again. I'll make sure of that.” She promised.  
He nodded. “Good. I was worried about you, Merrill. You are already more at risk than other mages and if anything were to happen to you with me present, I would-...Just...promise me to be more careful. For my sake.” Hawke said softly, looking down at the rotten floorboards. If Merrill didn't know any better, she'd swear that he was blushing though she had no clue as to why he would.  
“I promise.” She said in barely a whisper.

“I've got something for you.” Hawke said as he slipped in front of his favorite elf, almost startling her. Luckily, her ears were good.  
Hawke handed her a small wooden halla statuette with her name crudely scratched on. It was very cute and masterfully crafted with great attention to detail. It almost looked real, like it could dance across her palms. And the fact that Hawke was the one to give it to her made it all the more precious.   
“Ooh.” She squealed excitedly. “Did you get this from Master Ilen?”  
Then she frowned. “Mythal! Did I miss some important occasion? I'm so sorry! I'll make it up to you, I promise.” She swore.  
Hawke chuckled. “I think I missed the elvish sign for, ‘This present induces terrible guilt’. I'll shop more carefully in the future.” He said lightheartedly.  
“I…” Merrill mentally slapped herself in the face. Hawke had just given her a gift! And she hadn't even realized it.  
“Of course. Your just being thoughtful.” She looked down at her feet, her cheeks red. “No one has ever given me a gift before. Useful things. Tools or clothes. Because I needed them. Not...just because.”  
Hawke reached out and gently held her hand. “Merrill, if anyone deserves a gift be it nice or weird, its you. Do you like it? I thought you might because, duh, halla.”  
She smiled, her hands growing clammy at his touch. “I love it! Ma serannas. I'll find a good place for this.”  
Hawke grinned back. “Anything to see you smile.” He said, quickly giving her a friendly hug before taking his leave.   
Merrill stared at the empty space that Hawke was in only moments ago.   
She didn't know what this meant. Was he trying to tell her he liked her? Or was he just giving a friend a gift? Or neither?   
Whatever his reasons, she knew one thing. His present was going right next to her bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a bit short. I'm out of town right now so I don't have a lot of free time but at the same time, I wanted to post another chapter. Hope you enjoyed ;)


	4. Thats a varterral? Creepy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A somewhat short take on Merrill's personal quest

CHAPTER FOUR

Hawke stepped into Merrill’s house and nodded a greeting to her as he closed and locked the door behind him. Not that he didn't trust her neighbors buut...he didn't trust her neighbors.  
She waved him over. “I've got something to show you! Come and see.” She said excitedly.  
Hawke followed her into a side room where a tall broken mirror stood, leaning against the wall.   
Merrill stared admiringly at it. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”   
Hawke grinned at her. “You're much prettier.”  
Merrill blushed. “Oh, you're too kind! Is...it warm in here? Stop babbling, Merrill.”  
Hawke smiled. She always looked so adorable when she was flustered. Like a small puppy first learning how to swim.  
“I've spent the last few years restoring it.” She explained. “One of my clan found it in the Brecillan Forest, we think.” She lowered her head. “Poor Tamlen. We never found him. Just the shattered pieces of the eluvian.”  
Hawke cocked his head to the side. “What's an eluvian?”  
Merrill sighed sadly. “Long ago, the elves had a kingdom. An empire that spanned Thedas. And every city had an eluvian. The mirrors let them communicate across their empire. But I don't know how, exactly. My people have lost so much. We know almost nothing of the days before Arlathan. This is a piece of our history.” She said, turning towards him.  
Hawke nodded, understanding what this was about right away. “This thing is what made the Keeper send you away, isn't it? In addition to the whole blood magic cutting yourself stuff.”  
Merrill frowned. “The Keeper wanted me to destroy the fragment I kept. She said our ancestors meant it to be forgotten. But it's a Keeper’s place to remember! Even the dangerous things. We argued...I left. She's wrong. This mirror could teach us so much about who we once were!”  
Hawke held his hands up. “Okay, okay. You can calm down with the ranting. It's alright. Im sure you wouldn't show something this dangerous to just anyone. I feel kind of honored.” He said with a wink.  
“It's not dangerous, I promise! I fixed it. Or tried to. With blood magic.” She tried to ignore his flinch at her words. She knew Hawke didn't like blood magic, he had been taught not to and everything happening in Kirkwall didn't help his opinion on it. She knew he only flinched because he was worried about her. And she was grateful for that. At least someone was.   
“The mirror won't hurt anyone.” She assured him. “But...if doesn't work. I've tried everything, and I think it's because it needs to be finished with a special tool. An arullin’holm. And my clan has one. It's been in their hands for generations…” she grew silent.  
“But you're afraid to face Keeper Marethari again.” Hawke guessed.  
Merrill nodded. “Exactly.”   
She clenched her fingers nervously. “You have no idea. The Keeper...I can't talk to her. We fight or talk circles around each other. She has a disappointed frown that turns your bones to jelly! Please help me? You will, won't you?” Merrill pleaded.  
“I'll go with you.” Hawke said without hesitation.   
Merrill sighed, relieved. “Ma serannas! I'll find some way to repay you, I promise!”   
Hawke grinned at her. “Merrill, you don't need to repay me at all. I'm not doing this because I expect something in return; I'm doing it because I want to help you. Though, I won't say no to another elven cookie.”  
Merrill laughed. “Thank you.”  
He winked. “Anytime.”

Hawke looked at the cave’s entrance. He swallowed nervously. He looked over at Merrill. “You know, when I said I'd help, I didn't know it meant I'd have to go kill what is essentially a giant daddy long legs.”  
The two were with Aveline and Anders a ways away from the camp on Sundermount where Merrill's clan resides. Merrill had asked for the arullin’holm whatsitcalled and the Keeper had agreed if they went and killed a varterral, something Hawke didn't even knew was a thing before twenty minutes ago.   
Anders snickered. “Come on Hawke. You aren't afraid of a creepy crawly are you?” He teased.  
Hawke frowned. “Excuse me but I like to keep my fights with giant killer spiders to a minimum.”  
Aveline grunted. “Quit whining. You wanted to help your dear Merrill so here we are. About to go kick a spider’s ass.”  
Hawke coughed. “She isn't my dear Merrill- I mean she is but I mean...Oh look, a cave! Let's go see what deadly things are inside it.” Hawke said before leading the way into the cave. Merrill blushed as she followed him with Aveline and Anders bringing up the rear.  
As they walked, Merrill tugged on his arm. He looked over his shoulder at her with a question in his eyes. She smiled at him. “I wanted to thank you. You didn't have to come help me.”  
“Two things Merrill: one, you don't need to thank me. And two, yes I did have to help you. I wanted to- want to. I'll always have your back.” Hawke said with a wink.   
“Now be quiet and let's kill us some big ass spiders.”  
After passing through waves and waves of giant spiders and traversing the winding tunnels of the cave, they soon came to an old mining door. Hawke saw someone run past it and warned the others.   
He stepped forward. “Whoever’s hiding had better come out!” He ordered. “Unless you're a dragon. Then feel free to keep hiding.”  
Anders snickered. “Real intimidating, Hawke.”  
Hawke shrugged. “You know you dig it.”  
A skinnier than usual elf stepped into view with short blonde hair. He was wearing an eleven scout’s armor but had no weapons. He looked highly nervous and more than a bit jumpy, as if he wasn't used to his own skin.  
“Hello?” The elf said tentatively. Then seeing that they meant no harm, started walking towards them, smiling in relief. “Praise Andras- I mean thank the Creators. I thought I'd never get out of-.” He froze as his gaze landed on Merrill and a look of sheer terror crossed his face. “Merrill?” He asked, terrified.  
Merrill nodded. “Aneth ara, Pol. Are you hurt?”   
Pol retreated hastily. “Stay back! What do you want from me?” He yelled.  
Merrill frowned. “Pol, what's wrong? I'm here to help!”  
“Stay back! Don't touch me!” Pol shouted in fear.  
Hawke chuckled. “You're scared of Merrill? Merrill couldn't hurt you even if she tried. At worst, she might make frowny faces.”  
“She'll do worse than hurt me! Don't you know what she is?” Pol snarled. “Creators save me! Someone help!” Pol yelled, turning on his heels and running in the opposite direction.  
“Pol, no!” Merrill shouted after him.   
She turned to Hawke pleadingly. “We have to catch him! Hurry!”  
They raced after him and into a large cavern. They heard a terrified scream and saw Pol fall to the ground with some kind of giant four legged spider thing standing over him. It had a skinny neck and a small head with two hand looking things but had four enormous legs. It's best quality? It was creepy.   
Hawke shivered and gave Anders a side glance. “That is a varterral? That creepy ass thing? You have got to be shitting me.”  
Anders smirked. “You just had to agree to help your crazy girlfriend, huh?”  
Hawke frowned. “She is not my girlfriend. I don't know what she is to me at the moment but we can talk about it after we kill this stuff of nightmares.”  
Hawke twirled his staff and a bolt of electricity flew out at the varterral, hitting it right in its backside. The creature spun around at looked at the newcomers. Then it screeched loudly.   
“I think all you did was piss it off.” Aveline noted.   
Hawke groaned. “I can see that. Well, let's go take it down.”  
Anders threw up a barrier around the group as they ran at the varterral, sword and staves flailing. Merrill shot lumps of spirit energy at it and Anders shot ice spears while Aveline got real close and personal as she slashed at its long legs, staying out of reach of its claws and teeth. Hawke kept firing bolts of lightning at it but the bolts didn't even faze it. None of their spells were working on it. Then Hawke had a thought. None of the spells were working because it was a living thing. Basically a giant bug. And the thing that always kills bugs is heat.  
“Aveline, get out of there!” He shouted at the ginger who dove off to the side. With Aveline clear, Hawke brought down a firestorm on top of the varterral. On fire and burning, the beast gave one last screech before crumpling to the dirt, burnt to a crisp and quite dead.  
Hawk replaced his staff on his back and wiped off his hands. “Whew. That went better than I thought it would.”  
“Pol...maybe it's not too late!” Merrill said as she knelt by Pol’s side. Aveline and Anders stood at a distance to give the two of them some space and keep an eye out for any more trouble.  
Merrill looked up at Hawke. “Hawke, you can do anything! Maybe you can heal him.”  
Hawke frowned, shaking his head. He was going to hate the next few minutes. “Merrill, he's dead. There's nothing a healer can do now.”  
Merrill’s heart sank. Pol had been her friend for years. She could feel the tears flowing down her face as she wept. “Why did you run? You shouldn't have run!” She sobbed.  
Hawke knelt down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, letting her know he was there if she needed him. He hated seeing her upset like this. Merrill rarely cried but when she did, it made him want to either comfort her and let her know everything was okay or go find whatever made her cry and eviscerate it into a million pieces.   
“There was nothing you could have done, Merrill.” He said softly.  
Merrill sniffled. “He was more afraid of me than of the varterral… Pol wasn't like the others. He was city-born. Worldly. He ran away from Denerim and found us. I thought if anyone would understand, he would. This...something is very wrong. I want to see the Keeper.” She said, standing up.  
Hawke nodded. “Then we go see the Keeper.”

“The varterral is dead.” Hawke announced as they returned to the elven camp.   
The Keeper nodded her thanks. “Ma serannas. I'll breathe easier, knowing that we will lose no more people to it.”  
Merrill looked down at her feet sadly. “We lost Pol. In the cave, he...he fled at the sight of me, straight into the varterral.”  
The Keeper frowned. “Many of the clan fear you'll bring back the corruption-or worse- from the mirror.” She explained.  
“And where did they get that idea?” Merrill asked with a scowl.  
“I am their Keeper, da’len. It was my duty to warn them. It's still not too late for you to return to us. Reconsider. There's no need for you to live alone.”  
Hawke cleared his throat. “She's never alone; not if I can help it. And if I'm not with her, she has the rats to keep her company.”  
Merrill, try as she might, couldn't stop her cheeks from blushing nor her ears from burning. The Keeper noticed immediately and smiled on the inside. Though she didn't often show it, she thought of Merrill as a daughter and was glad that she had Hawke.   
Merrill coughed. “We've done as you asked. Honor our bargain. Give me the arullin'holm.”  
The Keeper sighed. “Hawke...because Merrill won't listen, I give this heirloom of my clan to you for safekeeping. Please...don't let her do this.” She pleaded, handing him what appeared to be a knife before walking away.  
Merrill let out a pent up breath. “Thank the Creators! I thought…maybe she'd go back on her word.”  
Hawke groaned as he gave her the knife. “I hope I don't regret this but take the knife. Try not to cut yourself on it, okay?”  
“Thank you! I knew you would understand!” Merrill said happily, beaming at him with what he thought looked a lot like love in her eyes. But that would be crazy. Merrill didn't love him. Didn't she?  
Merrill put the knife away. “Let's be away from here. The others are giving me the evil eye.”  
Hawke smiled at her. “Now if that isn't a sin, I don't know what is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing these two is soo cute!! I almost wish I had chosen to write Hawke/Merrill in my other story Dreams that Matter instead of Hawke/Isabela and I Love those two. I'm so undecided as to which coupling is my favorite! What about you guys? Which one is your fav?


	5. Ma'arlath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill being her adorable self

CHAPTER FIVE

Merrill sat cross legged, staring at the eluvian intently. She desperately wanted to go to work on it with the arullin’holm but she knew she had to be careful and not rush ahead of herself. One rash move and the mirror could break. So she wanted to be as careful and patient as possible. Even if it meant the anxiety would eat away at her.   
So much relied on this working and she wanted to be absolutely sure it would work before she tried messing with either the knife or the mirror. She wouldn't squander the chance Hawke had given her by letting her have the knife. Not after everything they had gone through to get it.   
Somehow, past all of her thoughts, she heard keys messing with the lock to the front door. Well, the only door. She lived in an Alienage after all.   
The door clicked open and then closed and locked as someone stepped insider her home. Her heartbeat slowed down. No need to worry if it was an intruder. Only a handful of her closest friends had keys.   
Merrill twisted her head to see who it was and her heartbeat suddenly quickened like crazy when she noticed it had been Hawke that had come in.   
“Hawke…” she said, standing up in a hurry and quickly pushing the hair out of her eyes.   
Ever since they had returned from Sundermount, she had been going through in her head different ways she could tell Hawke how thankful she was to him for helping her and just being there for her when she needed him. She had thought about it so much she was almost sure she had fantasized about it at some point. But now that she had the chance, she couldn't think of anything to say.  
Hawke smiled warmly at her, unknowingly melting her heart. “Hey, you. I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd stop by, see how you were doing.”   
That was a lie. He hadn't actually been anywhere near her house. He had been at the Guards barracks with Aveline and Isabela, both of whom had practically ordered him to go check on her. Not that he needed to be ordered to. He would have done it anyway.  
Merrill didn't seem to have heard him. After another second had passed, she gave up and decided to just jump right in and say thanks.   
“...I could never have faced the Keeper myself. I never imagined a human would help me restore Dalish history.” She blushed. “No one ever understood. Not the Keeper, not my clan...just...you.” She realized she was probably going a bit too far, but she felt that he needed to know how thankful she was.  
He grinned at her with that wondrous grin of his. The same one that told you he was up to no good but at the same time, was happier than you were. Over the years, she had slowly figured out that the grin was a farce. She learned that whenever Hawke used that grin to let people know he was in a good mood, it normally meant he was nervous or upset. Like whenever someone asked him about his late brother, Carver, he would slap that grin on and tell you a joke or funny story about how rude his brother was. But underneath the grin, he would be crying, missing his little brother who was gone too soon. It was all just a farce for a man who wasn't as brave as he'd like.   
“I'm sensitive, handsome, and supportive. What else could you possibly want?” He said with that grin. Which meant he was nervous. Though Merrill had no idea why he would be.  
Without thinking, Merrill said, “Nothing! Oh, not that I'm saying I want you. I'll just stop talking now.” _By the Dread Wolf! Stupid Merrill! Why would you say that?_   
She swallowed. “You're the first real friend I've ever had.” She said quickly. “‘Ma serannas, ma’arlath.” She mentally slapped herself in the head. Why did she say that?  
Hawke raised an eye. “I'm used to hearing you speak elvish but that last bit is new. What's...ma larth, mean?” He asked.  
“It means thank you, best friend.” Merrill lied.   
Hawke smiled. “Ah. Okay. Ma serannas, ma’arlath to you too Merrill.”  
Merrill nearly forgot to breathe. Her heart had simply melted into a warm pool at his words. Even if he didn't know the real meaning of the words, it still sounded real.  
“So are you going to come by tonight? It's our weekly game of Wicked Grace with everyone, remember? It's not perfect without you there.” Hawke asked.  
Merrill, still beaming at his words, nodded absentmindedly.   
Hawke reached up and touched her shoulder. “Merrill, you sure you are alright?”  
Her ears burned. “Yes, I'm alright. I'll see you tonight with the others.”  
Hawke smiled and headed for the door. “See you then.” He said as he left, leaving Merrill alone.  
She staggered, clutching her chest. It felt like her heart would beat out of her own chest. Her breathing was heavy and random.   
Sne was not alright.   
Because _ma’arlath_ meant, _my love_.

Hawke unlocked the door to Merrill’s house and stepped inside the next afternoon. He was worried. She hadn't shown up to Wicked Grace night like she said she would. So he decided to see what was up.   
Merrill was sitting at her table, with her chin resting on her knees. She hadn't gone out the other night because she had gotten sidetracked trying to get the eluvian working. And in turn, her feeble attempts made her upset.  
She raised her head just enough to see who it was. “Oh! Hawke? Come in. I...was just… Am I crazy?” She asked suddenly.   
Hawke couldn't help but smile at her. “Yes. But in a good way.” He said as he joined her at the table, sitting across from her.  
Merrill sighed. “I thought the arullin’holm would fix everything. The mirror would work and everything would be right again… But I keep dreaming of Pol’s face. Everyone that I care for thinks I'm a monster.” She said sadly.  
Hawke shook his head. “Bull. It's hard to imagine someone more lovable than you.”  
Merrill smiled at him. “That's so untrue. I can think of someone…”  
They smiled at each other.   
Merrill breathed shakily. “I...you've been so good to me. Someday, I'll make it up to you lethallin.” She promised him, smiling at him with those big beautiful hazel eyes of hers. And that was all the repayment Hawke needed.

“Soo… You and Merrill, huh?” Isabela asked Hawke as they sat at a table in the Hanged Man.   
Hawke didn't look up from his ale. “Me and Merrill what?”  
Isabela nudged his arm. “You knooww. You and Merrill. And the flirtatious looks and stealing glances all the time. Don't try and deny it; I know something is there.”  
“And what's there?” Hawke asked.   
She leaned in him playfully, smiling. She was a bit tipsy at this point. The two of them had been drinking for a while. “You liike Merrill. You wuv her.”  
Hawke sighed but ignored her, taking another sip from his drink. Isabela started to poke him, repeating herself. “You like Merrill, you like Merrill, you like Merrill!”  
Finally Hawke couldn't take it any longer. “Sweet Maker. Alright, yes! I like Merrill!” He shouted.  
Isabela giggled. “That's so cute! You'd make an adorable couple.” She suddenly got very serious. “If you ever hurt her, I’ll chop your balls off and feed them to you.” She threatened.  
Hawke looked up from his cup. “I’d never hurt her. You know that. And if I did, I'd chop my own balls off.”  
“The same goes if you do anything nasty to her.”  
Hawke chuckled. “What about sex? Like normal sex. Nothing you would do.”  
Isabela snickered. “Oh Maker, she is going to _flip_ _out_ if she ever sees your cock. I still daydream about it.”  
Hawke laughed. “That good, huh?”  
She nodded enthusiastically. “That good. I have to admit, I'm a little envious of Merrill for stealing your heart.”  
Hawke raised an eye at her. “Isabela, are you being jealous right now? Or am I just imagining that?”  
She winked at him. “Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, momma hen is going to get you two together, I’ll promise you that.”  
Hawke put his drink down and looked at her with a frown creasing his eyebrows. “Don't you dare. I don't want you playing matchmaker, Bela. Stay out of my affairs please. If me and Merrill are going to- if we are going to ever become-...If whatever is between me and Merrill blossoms into something more, I want it to be natural and happen without your influence.”  
Isabela snickered. “Since when did you get all romantic?”  
He groaned. “Isabela…”  
She wrapped her arm around his neck drunkedly. “Fine, I'll let your love blossom naturally. But the second it does, I am so going to make you both horny as hell for each other every chance I get.”  
Hawke rolled his eyes and called the bartender over for another round.   
Isabela hiccuped. “Are you going to woo her with candles and poetry in the moonlight as well? Now that would make the love blossom.”  
Hawke sighed. Maybe they'd had enough to drink for the night.   
Isabela sighed dreamily, imagining the scenario go down in her head. “Ahhh. That'd be so adorable.”  
Hawke smirked. “Bela, that is never ever going to happen. I'm way too classy for poetry.”  
She laughed. “Yeah, you'd probably just belch ‘I love you’ to her.”  
He shrugged. _Eh, she's not wrong_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked writing this chapter. Man I love Merrill in this chapter!   
> Does anyone have any requests for the next chapter? Anything you'd like to see? If so, make sure and leave me a comment:)   
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it!


	6. Let's Scandalize The Neighbors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill more or less tells Hawke how she feels. Warning: mature content ahead

CHAPTER SIX

Merrill froze outside of Hawke’s front door, her hand poised to knock. She couldn't do this. She wasn't brave enough to. She should just go back home before she screwed things up. She shouldn't be here. And yet…  
She had been back home pacing the floor, trying to muster the courage and when she finally did, she had marched up to Hightown and to Hawke’s estate, intent on telling him but now that she was here, it was a lot harder to do. She knew that the worst thing that could happen was that he'd tell her the opposite of what she wanted to hear and though it would hurt _a lot_ , eventually she'd get over it and move on. But that was what scared her the most. If the worst did happen, she didn't think she would get over it. She didn't think she ever could.   
She shook her head. _No. If I don't tell him soon, I'll lose it. What would I regret more: not telling him when there was a possibility he could feel the same or tell him and have him not feel the same? If I don't do this, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Come on, Merrill. You can do this._  
She took a deep breath, dug out her key from her pocket, and put it in the lock. She opened the door and stepped inside, locking the door behind her.   
Stump heard her come in and gave a welcoming bark, letting his master know that someone had come inside.  
Before she made it halfway through the hallway, Hawke turned the corner, smiling a greeting. He was wearing his casual clothes and had just taken a bath so he was all freshened up. He had even just trimmed his beard as if he somehow knew she would be coming.  
Merrill didn't give him any time to say hello, she just jumped right in.  
“Oh, thank goodness you're here! I thought you went to the Hanged Man.” She said as she paced the floor with Hawke’s eyes following her and a smile on his face. “And I almost went there to look for you first, but then I thought you might have gone to see your uncle instead…” she stopped moving and looked down at her feet nervously. She was already messing this up. “And I'm rambling, aren't I?”  
Hawke grinned. “I don't mind. You're adorable when you're flustered.”  
Merrill’s cheeks flushed red. “After you left, I...I couldn't stop thinking about Pol, and the mirror, and everything that's happened. I wonder if...if I've made a mistake. Leaving the Dalish.” She tried to explain.  
Hawke raised an eye. “Who could pass up life in Kirkwall? The city of sunshine and butterflies!” He joked but in reality, he was worried that Merrill was talking about leaving and going back to her clan, leaving Kirkwall and ultimately, leaving his life. And he didn't, nor ever would, want that.  
She looked up at him, blushing. “I suppose if I hadn't left my people, I never would have met you.” She rubbed her temple. “If you were Dalish, my people would have a kingdom by now. And half of Thedas would be attacking us. So maybe things worked out for the best.”  
Hawke frowned. “Does it bother you that I'm human?” He asked her.  
“No!” She quickly replied. I'm not saying I'd change you for… I'm making things worse, aren't I? I just… I'm one of the elvhen. I'm supposed to preserve who we are, and if I… There are reasons that it's bad to...is it warm in here? Elgar'nan, I'll stop talking now.” She swore her face had to be redder than a rose at that point, she was so nervous. She knew he had to be freaking out a little at how she was acting. She half expected him to tell her to leave.  
Hawke simply smiled warmly at her. “I guess I'll postpone making myself more elfy.”  
She laughed nervously. “Oh, I don't know, you'd look handsome with pointy ears. Not that you don't now.” Merrill sighed. “The Keeper- my whole clan- will object if we...not that they can possibly hate me any more, I suppose.”  
Hawke shrugged. “I’ll apologize to them later. I'll even pretend to be sorry.”  
Merrill bowed her head, her heart felt like it was beating ten times a second.   
“Merrill…” Hawke said as he gently held her face in his hand and lifted it up so that she was looking into his loving mischievous eyes. “It's all right.” He said softly.   
Without thinking, Merrill leaned in suddenly and kissed him, her lips latching onto his like it was the last time she was ever going to see him.   
He tasted like vanilla for some reason. She liked it. She never wanted to stop but then she realized what she was doing and took a step back, ashamed of herself. She had probably just ruined whatever chance she had with him and their friendship all in one stupid move. She cursed herself for being that moronic.   
“I- I'm sorry. I should just leave.” Merrill said, embarrassed beyond what she thought possible. She went to turn around and run away to some dark corner of the world where he wouldn't be able to find her but Hawke grabbed her arm, stopping her. He pulled her back towards him, gathered her up in his arms, and kissed her passionately.  
The second her initial surprise left her, she melted into the kiss, a small moan escaping her lips.   
Before she knew it, they were in Hawke’s room with the door closed and locked. Merrill backed up, leading Hawke to the bed. She lied back, bringing Hawke along with her. With him lying ontop of her, they kissed again, each savoring each other's taste. She could have lied there forever, just enjoying his soft kisses and his warm strong body pressed up against hers. But bodies are weird and hers was telling her that she needed him. Desperately. She needed him like she had needed no one else. It went farther than just a physical thing; she needed him in every way possible. It terrified her but at the same time, invigorated her.   
“Hawke…” she whimpered.  
“Shh…” he whispered, placing a finger on her lips and sending shivers down her spine. That one touch made her entire body tremble, eager for more. She didn't just want more, she _needed_ more.   
Hawke sat up and tore his shirt off and Merrill audibly giggled with excitement. His muscles were just so...so...wonderful.   
He lifted his body off of hers just enough so he could take the rest of his clothes off and it dawned on her. This was really happening. She was about to make love to Hawke. Secretly,she had dreamed about this moment for years and now that it was finally happening, she could hardly believe it. Her entire clan would object if they ever found out, but at that point, she could have cared less about what her clan felt. All that mattered then was Hawke and herself.  
Hawke took off the remainder of his clothing, revealing his highly aroused member. As he looked down at her, as naked as the day he was born, she gulped. He looked amazing. He raised an eye at her, grinning. With a jolt, she realized she still had her robes on. She hastily took them off, a bit shyly if it had to be said. She had never slept with anyone before in her life and so this was all new to her. Hawke, she knew, must have had dozens of lovers before. Unlike her, he appeared to know what he was doing.   
After a couple seconds of hesitation, she stripped off her clothes until she too, was naked. Feeling subconscious, she looked over to the side in order to avoid his piercing gaze.   
Hawke looked down, absorbing the beautiful sight before him. Merrill, being an elf, was considerably smaller than most humans and because of this, her breasts were small, small enough for him to be able to cup them in his hands if he wanted to. Her nipples were erect, partially because of the cold and partially because she was so aroused. Originally, he had thought that because she was skinny, she'd be a little bony but that wasn't the case at all. Her white skin was soft and warm. And her pink hairy mound was leaking wet. She looked so perfect, only she didn't feel like it at all.  
“Hawke, I'm scared.” Merrill whimpered.  
Hawke leaned down and kissed her cheek tenderly. “It's all right, Merrill. I promise I won't do anything too much and I'll stop immediately if you are uncomfortable.” He said comfortingly.  
She shook her head. “No, it's just...Go slow please…”  
He nodded in understanding. “Pinky promise.”  
Gently and slowly, Hawke pushed his cock into her vagina, slowly popping her cherry. Merrill winced in pain as his cock pushed itself inside her. She clutched his shoulders, her nails digging into them as she bit her lip to stop from crying out.   
She could feel blood coming out of her vagina as he pushed further in until he was fully inside her. Then he carefully pulled out, giving her a second to recover before he pushed back in. With each thrust, it got easier for her to open up. After a few minutes, the pain she received turned into pleasure as he filled her up again and again. With her nails digging into his back, Hawke smiled lovingly down at her and she smiled back up at him. They were doing it. They were having sex.   
Hawke kept a slow but steady pace as he thrusted inside of her, stopping whenever he thought she was uncomfortable or simply needed a second. He was determined not to do anything that would freak her out. He knew how special the first time was.   
Merrill groaned in pleasure she didn't think possible to achieve. She felt whole. Everything else faded away until it was just the two of them. Just her...and Hawke. Breathing heavily, she started to moan loudly. Hawke sensed that she was close and leaned down, softly pinching on her nipples with his teeth, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body as he nibbled on the highly sensitive skin. With a low moan, she came, shuddering as her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. Her whole body felt like it was on fire as she twitched violently, riding her orgasm as long as she could, never wanting the addicting feeling to go away.  
Hearing her moan like that enough Hawke to the edge and with a grunt, he reached his own climax. He collapsed ontop of her, entwining his body with hers, both breathing heavily.

  
“What happens now?” Merrill asked Hawke as the two lay on his bed, curled up in each other's warm embrace. Hawke was rubbing her arm lovingly which sent tingles up her back.  
“Are we...what did this mean?”  
“You know, we might have to try that a few more times to really get the meaning…” Hawke said.  
Merrill looked over at him, feeling his beard on her cheek. Her heart swelled with love for him. For this sarcastic,mischievous, and fun human. Love she had never known.   
“I love you.” She said, once again not thinking. “I probably shouldn't have said that, shouldn't I? I always say the stupidest things…”  
She felt him smile. “I was thinking of scandalizing the neighbors by having my Dalish lover move in. What do you think?” He asked innocently.  
Merrill suddenly stood up and looked at him. “Here? In Hightown? The rich, fancy part of the city with no rats in it? And you...with an elf?” She grinned. “Ma vhenan...you really are crazy, aren't you?”  
Hawke swung his legs around and stood up, coming over to her.   
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “If you're not afraid, then…neither am I.” She whispered in his ear.  
“I'm afraid you can't bring any pet rats with you. Stump will eat them.” Hawke said with a chuckle.  
Merrill smiled. And for the first time in her life, she felt happily content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked how this chapter came out. I hope I did these two justice. Hope you enjoyed! And let me know if there's anything else you want me to write!   
> Oh and I got a tumblr in case you want to send me anything! I'm biowarenerd just like I am here:) it would literally make my life if I got some fanart or comments and stuff


	7. Sadness Hidden Behind Sarcasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of All That Remains. Kind of short but a lot of the feels:(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm back! Guess I'm doing more chapter! I hadn't planned on it but I couldn't say not to writing this chapter. It had to be done

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hawke threw a dagger with his free hand at the last remaining undead corpse, nailing it in the head, effectively killing it.   
It felt good. Especially after all the messed up shit that had happened that day. What had started out as a wonderful day, had quickly escalated into a horrible one. He had woken up next to Merrill in their big comfortable bed in his estate; which happened on a daily basis now that she had moved in with him. His mother had slept in late so they left the house without speaking to anyone, though Hawke did leave a note that they were heading out to the Wounded Coast with Aveline and Fenris. Aveline had gotten word of a group of Raiders camped out on the cliffs and had ‘requested’ Hawke's help in dealing with them. The journey took the entire day and by the time Hawke and Merrill had returned to the house, it was well after sunset. Upon returning, they stepped into the house to find Gamlen speaking to Bodahn and Sandal. Gamlen had been asking about Leandra; she hadn't shown up to their weekly dinner. That was when Bodahn mentioned white lilies and Hawke nearly lost it. Knowing that white lilies was like the calling card of a killer stalking Kirkwall, he ran out of the house after informing Gamlen towards Darktown along with Merrill. Along the way, he recruited Varric and Fenris who were both at the Hanged Man. In Darktown, he enlisted the help of Gascard Dupuis. With Gascard using blood magic, they were able to trace Leandra to the sewers below the city. After fighting through waves of demons and corpses, they reached the killers hideout. The killer, whose name was Quentin, had magically reconstructed his dead wife, and had used his mother's face. Hawke couldn't even begin to ask how he had done so. And then Gascard betrayed him and joined Quentin. Which proved to be the spark that ignited Hawke’s fire. Using his own magic, Hawke had cut the traitor to pieces as the others fought demons and corpses. And when Quentin’s barriers finally fell, Hawke had burned the twisted son of a bitch alive until the bloodmage was just a pile of ashes on the shit covered floor of the sewer. A fitting end to a monster.  
“Hawke…” Varric warned.  
Hawke spun around. His mother was hobbling towards him, unused to the pieces together body she was now in.   
“Mother!” Hawke shouted in alarm. She made it a few more steps before she went limp. Hawke caught her before she fell and gently laid her down, holding her in his arms.   
Merrill sniffled. “I'm so sorry Hawke. Quentin’s magic was the only thing keeping her alive.”   
Hawke ignored her and focused on his mother's face. She was so pale, nearly as white as the bridal gown Quentin had her wear. Her face was covered in cuts and scars, evidence from where the bastard had sewn it on. Around her neck was stitches from where he attached her head onto the rearranged body of other women he killed.   
Hai mother, despite the fact that her life was slowly slipping away, smiled up at him as he cradled her in his arms. “I knew you would come.”  
Hawke smiled back but tears had sprung into his eyes. “You know me. I always save the day.”  
“Shh. Don't fret, darling. That man would have kept me trapped in here. But now...I'm free.” She coughed weakly. “I'll be with Carver and Bethany...and your father. But you'll be all alone.” She said sadly. She knew how much he missed their family, even if he didn't often show it. She didn't want to add to that mourning.  
Hawke fought to keep his tears from falling down his face. He couldn't lose it. Not now.  
“”I should have watched over you more closely. I should have…”   
Her hand reached up to touch his cheek. “My little boy has become so strong.”  
He bowed his head, until they were only inches apart. He could see nothing but pride in her eyes. And she could see nothing but the endless sadness. Nothing but the sadness that he had received over the years. All his life, he would crack a smile, crack a joke and shrug off anything serious. All his life, he would hide behind his sarcasm, hoping that no one saw what was truly behind it: an overwhelming sense of sadness and uncertainty. Most people never knew how scared and vulnerable he really was. But Leandra was his mother; there was no hiding anything from her. All she could do now, was pray that he didn't spiral down a pit of grief at her death. But she wasn't about to leave him without telling him something that she hadn't told him enough.   
“I love you. You've always made me so proud.” Hawke’s mother breathed, before closing her eyes and slipping away into the abyss.  
“Mother…” Hawke whispered. “Mother...please don't go. Don't leave me, please. You're the only family I have left. You can't leave me. You can't! I need you! I can't-...Don't…”  
He shut his eyes, expecting the tears to fall, but they didn't. No tears came. He wanted to cry. Wanted to sob and to scream out in anguish and despair. But for some reason, for some twisted fucked up reason, he couldn't.   
He couldn't cry. Of all times to cry, he couldn't. He couldn't cry.  
But he wished he could.

Hawke sat on the edge of his bed, his room shrouded in darkness as he stared off into space. His mind still couldn't process it all. His mother was dead. He was an orphan, alone in the world without a family. Alone.  
“Ir abelas, ma vhenan.” Merrill said from the doorway.   
“I'm glad you're here, Merrill.”   
Merrill walked into the room, sitting down beside him. “Leandra is in a better place now.” She said softly, trying to comfort him.  
He was silent for a time before shutting his eyes suddenly. “I guess this is what it feels like to be an orphan. All alone in this hellhole of a world.” He said shakily. Immediately, Merrill knew that Hawke was not in a good place then. Just like Leandra, she knew that Hawke hid behind jokes and a smile. She knew he hid his vulnerability behind his wit. It was the only thing he could do. And she knew that if he didn't allow himself to feel during this, to let his vulnerable side out, it would break him.   
“You are never alone.” She said, reaching over and holding his hands which were shaking. “I will always be here for you. With you.”  
Hawke leaned against her, his head resting against her bosom. She wrapped him up her embrace, her fingers stroking his hair lightly as he sobbed quietly. It was the first time he had cried in- he didn't even remember how long. Nevertheless, it was long overdue.  
Merrill looked down at the sobbing man in her arms. She would die before she let him cry this much and this hard again.   
“Oh, Hawke…” she whispered. “I know it doesn't help a lot, but… I'm so sorry.”  
But she was wrong. It did help. It made all the pain bearable. And that alone, made all the difference in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually almost got teary myself writing this. And it's not actually all that heartwrencning to be honest.   
> I guess I'm doing more chapters of this story so be on the lookout for more. And feel free to tell me if you want me to write anything specific ;) prompts are always welcomed


	8. Afterwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short but cute chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merrill is so adorable and perfect:)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“This is beneath you, Hawke.” Aveline said to a drunk Hawke as he teetered on his chair at the Hanged Man. For the past week, Hawke had barely left the tavern. He had returned home only once, preferring to spend his time drinking his sorrows away. Aveline knew he was in mourning, she would be too if her mother had died. But enough was enough. If he continued on this path, he would only spiral into oblivion. And they both knew it.  
Merrill would have been there but Hawke had asked her to leave him to himself for a while until he came to terms with what had happened. He hadn't wanted her to see him like this, broken and upset. In fact, he didn't want her to see him period. Not until he could get his act together.   
But it was hard. He had lost his mother; the only family he had left. His mother had died in his arms. In his arms! First, his father died. Then Bethany and Carver. And now his mother was gone as well. He was alone in the world now, despite what all his friends told him. He had no family. Yes, he still had Gamlen but he didn't count Gamlen.   
Now the closest thing he had to a family was his band of misfit friends. If it wasn't for them and Merrill, he would be truly alone.  
“Come on Hawke, drinking away your sadness doesn't help anyone.” Aveline pressed.  
Hawke snorted. “It sure helps me.”  
Aveline stepped forward and yanked the tankard out from his hands. He made a pitiful attempt to get it back but Aveline tossed the ale out.   
“Boo! Why would you do something like that? Are you mad? I paid good money for that drink and then you just up and empty it? That's not very nice.” Hawke whined.   
Aveline frowned, shaking her head. _Alright. This has gone on long enough._  
She went as if she was turning away, then spun back around and punched Hawke in the jaw, knocking him out of his seat and to the floor. Hawke laid there, sprawled out on the ground, more surprised than anything. Any other person would have gotten angry but Hawke was just surprised the punch hurt that much. He knew he deserved it. He deserved a lot worse than a punch in the face for his actions that week.   
Hawke spat out blood; he had borne his tongue when he fell.   
Aveline groaned and helped him to his feet, dusting him off like some old trophy. “Come on, let's get you back home where the first thing you will be doing is apologizing to Merrill for living at this bar for the last week. Then you'll be taking a much needed bath; you smell like stale ale. And not the good kind.”  
Hawke merely nodded as she led him out of the tavern and back to his house, ignoring the stares he received along the way. He supposedly was a high member of society now, so people knew who he was and what he looked like. He knew for a fact that his drunken stupor would be what the nobles talked about for the next month, before something more interesting than a drunken noble happened.  
As Aveline pushed the door open and led Hawke inside, they could hear as someone in the library played a lute. It was late in the evening so Bodahn had already put Sandal to bed. The dwarf was organizing all of Hawke's new letters that he must have gotten during the week. Which was quite a lot.  
Aveline cleared her throat, letting the dwarf know they were there.   
Bodahn turned around and smiled. “Ah, Messere! You've returned!”  
Hawke grinned then grimaced as his jaw throbbed. Apparently grinning after getting punched in the face hurt. “The drunken hero returns from the tavern. What a story that's got to make.”  
Aveline rolled her eyes. “Do you know where Merrill is, Bodahn? Hawke here needs to tell her something.”  
Bodahn nodded, gesturing towards the library where the piano was still playing. “She's in the library. Orana is teaching her how to play the lute. She's gotten a little better. You should have heard her when she first started out. It was like listening to the screeching of a Shriek.”  
Hawke frowned at him. “Hey, that's my lover you're talking about.”  
Aveline sighed and pushed him into the library. Merrill and Orana were on the second level, sitting and playing Orana’s lute. Orana noticed them first and nudged Merrill who looked up from the lute. When she saw Hawke, her face lit up in a smile and she raced down the stairs to hug Hawke. He couldn't help but hug her back. She looked so happy to see him, how could he not?  
She kissed him, smiling against his lips and when she pulled back, the smile didn't leave her cute face. “Hawke! You're back! You must be feeling better.”  
Hawke scratched his beard. “Well…” he began to say but then Aveline kicked him in the shins. Groaning, he said forcibly, “Yup. Everything's all good. It's all fine and dandy.”  
Aveline cleared her throat. “Hawke has something he needs to tell you, Merrill.” She said, glaring a warning at Hawke. _You better do the right thing or I swear I will beat you up_. Her eyes seemed to say.  
Merrill looked at Hawke expectantly, wondering what he was going to tell her.   
“I'm sorry, Merrill.” Hawke said. “For being an ass lately, I mean. Not coming home for a week and drinking my sorrows away and all that. I shouldn't have just abandoned everything, abandoned you. I should have manned up and for that, I'm sorry.”  
Aveline expected Merrill to lay into Hawke for being a jerk over the past week but instead, Merrill simply touched his cheek lovingly. “You don't have to apologize.” She told him. “You were mourning your mother, Hawke. That's something you never have to say sorry for. You don't have to be sorry because I'm not mad at you for being sad. I'd be sad too if I was in your feet er, shoes.”   
Hawke smiled. It was like everything Merrill ever did or said only made him love her even more. Even after spending all his time drinking in a tavern and ultimately living there for a week, she had already forgiven him. He didn't deserve someone as kind and forgiving as her.   
Aveline nodded. “Right. That went better than I thought it would. Are you going to be alright, Merrill?”  
“Yes. You can go back to doing guardswoman things now, Aveline. And thank you for helping him home.”   
Aveline smiled at the elf. Then nudged Hawke on her way out. “You don't deserve her, I'll tell you that much. I'd have kicked your ass if I was here.”   
Hawke smiled. “You don't have to tell me that.”  
Once Aveline had left, Merrill dragged on Hawke’s sleeves, pulling up the stairs. “Come on, I want to show you how good I've gotten on the lute!” She said excitedly. Orana excused herself; she wanted them to have a moment to themselves. Besides, it was tiring teaching Merrill how to play the lute.  
Hawke listened as she played. She was undeniably pretty good. Not as good as Orana was but she was getting there.   
Listening to her play for him, just glad that he was back at her side, made him happy. He loved this woman. This sweet, loving, forgiving, perfect woman. He knew he didn't deserve her but that would never stop him from loving her with everything he had.   
He couldn't stop the tears from falling down his face even if he tried. But they weren't sad tears, they were tears of joy. For the first time since his mother’s death, he was happy.  
Merrill stopped playing and looked over at him, frowning. “Hawke? What's wrong?” She asked, worried.  
Hawke smiled at her lovingly, tears falling gently down his cheeks. “Nothing. You're just so beautiful.”  
She blushed. “Oh, you're just saying that.”  
He shook his head. “You are. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on. And the sweetest. You have a heart that's too kind for this world and you're just so...pure. How did I ever get you to fall in love with me?” He said, perplexed.   
She grinned and leaned over to kiss him again. “Because you're you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!   
> For notifications of when I post more chapters of stuff, follow me on twitter or tumblr. I'm going to try to start posting when a chapter is posted. Tumblr is Biowarenerd. Twitter is @eric_bouleyAO3. Both are kind of new so I don't have a lot posted but both are mainly just for story stuff


	9. Tall Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some short friendly banter between Hawke and Varric

CHAPTER NINE

“And the man looks down at his hand and says, ‘Wait a moment, I swear I had five when I got here!’”  
The crowd of people all laughed as Varric finished his story. Like usual, the dwarf was in the Hanged Man, telling tales of Hawke’s exploits to anyone who would listen. Which was regularly becoming more and more people.  
Varric did this for a number of reasons: One, he liked the sound of his own voice. Two, the look on people's faces when he told them that Hawke ripped the horns off of an ogre with his bare hands was priceless. And three, because he thought it helped his friend when he was off ‘adventuring’. The more people that heard of or better yet, believed in the stories about him, the less people there would be who are brave enough to face him when he found them doing questionable things. The dwarf liked to think that what he did, though in small ways, helped his best friend. Plus, it was funny that so many people in Kirkwall believed everything he said about Hawke. Which was as surprising as it was scary.  
Varric grinned when he saw a familiar looking bushy beard and ruffled head of hair push through the crowd.   
“Ahh Hawke! I was just telling these fine people about that time you chopped off some fingers of a bandit and he was confused about what had happened. Remember that?” the dwarf said with a wink to his friend.   
Hawke, who caught on rather quickly, gave an ever so slight nod before grinning as if he remembered the fabricated tale of Varric’s. “Of course I do! Never laughed so hard in my life. The way the guy was all, ‘Where’d the rest of my hand go?’ was hilarious!”  
Varric couldn’t help but feel a little pride for his friend for being so quick witted. He liked to think it was him and Rivaini that taught him that highly useful skill but that had never been the case. Hawke had, for as long as they knew each other if not forever, been as witty and sneaky as he was in the present. It was one of the bigger reasons why Varric liked him so much: Hawke was the only person he knew that was able to outspeak him. And do it in almost every situation they were in.   
The crowd laughed and sensing that the two infamous people wanted to be left alone, slowly dispersed.   
Hawke stepped up to the beardless dwarf and threw an arm around Varric’s shoulder, which only barely reached his chest. “I see you are still spinning tales about me. Are you making sure I kill plenty of dragons in them?” he asked.  
Varric chuckled. “Hey at least the dragon tales about you are true. Unless that tale about you almost single handedly killing a mature dragon on a wrecked ship on the Wounded Coast is a lie?”  
Hawke grinned. “Well that one is true.”  
Varric laughed, gesturing towards a table. The two sat down and a serving girl came over with some drinks.   
Varric took a sip and leaned back in his chair, smiling at his roguish friend. “So what brings you to the Hanged Man, Hawke? Come to get sloshed, wasted, hammered, blacked out, and fifty-seven different types of drunk?”  
Hawke snickered. “Nope. Just came by to chat.”  
Varric raised an eye. “‘Chat’ he says. You aren't dying on me, are you?”  
Hawke shook his head. “Varric, the day I die, I'll chop off my left hand.”   
“Wouldn’t you already be dead? So how could you chop off- never mind.”  
Hawke grinned. “Yeah, try not to overthink it. Otherwise you’ll make your head hurt.”  
Varric nodded, smiling. He was silent for a moment before speaking again. “Alright, I gotta ask. How are you feeling after...you know.”  
“You mean how am I feeling after my mother’s death?”  
Varric coughed nervously. “Um, yeah. That. Sorry Hawke, I shouldn't have brought it up. That was rude of me.”  
Hawke waved him off. “No, it's fine. I'm okay. Reality has sunk in by now so it's alright. It still hurts and I don't think it will ever stop hurting but I'm past the depressed stage I think.”  
Varric nodded. “Good. Hard to tell people you are a badass with you crying in the corner.”   
Hawke laughed and gave his friend a playful shove. “Ass.”  
“I prefer the term scoundrel, thank you very much. Ass just conjures up unpleasant images.”  
The two laughed, slipping back into the friendly if a bit sarcastic banter they were known for. Varric was proud of his pal. Anyone else would have drowned in despair but not Hawke. He came back even wittier. But of course it helped when you had someone like Merrill help you. Varric doubted that Hawke could have bounced back as he had without the support of the clutzy elf. He was lucky to have her by his side.   
“So can I tempt you with a game of Wicked Grace?” Asked Varric hopefully.  
Hawke winked at him. “Why not? I haven't stolen all your money yet.”  
“Ouch.”  
The heavily bearded man chuckled. “Prepare the cards my lying little dwarf.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Been really busy lately. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter and like always, feel free to comment and let me know what you think of this story;)


	10. Cleaning Up The Bandits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and company get rid of a bandit group the good old fashioned way. By killing them all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! Been busy lately but here's a juicy chapter for ya!

CHAPTER TEN

“Something should be done.” Viscount Dumar said as he stood in his office at the Keep. He was arguing with his Seneschal about what to do about a new group of bandits that had arisen out of the Wounded Coast. The group, though small in comparison to other groups, was considerably smarter than the others. They continued to elude all authorities and were able to flee their crime scenes well before any city guards arrived. The group was increasingly getting braver and braver, stealing from and terrorizing the general populace.   
“And what are you suggesting? The bandits are gone every time we send some men over to catch them.” Bran said.  
Dumar nodded. “That's why we need to send someone to stop them, not catch them.”  
Bran immediately shook his head. “Oh no, no. We are not bringing him into this. We don't need the help of a sarcastic Ferelden _refugee_ to get rid of some common bandits.” He said with some heat.  
They both turned to the man leaning against the wall who coughed loudly, twirling his staff nonchalantly in the air. “You know.” Hawke said. “I'm standing right here.”  
Bran turned back to Dumar angrily. “I still don't see why we have to include him in this conversation.”  
Dumar sighed almost tiredly. “Serah Hawke has helped this city and deal with its...problems, before. He's a very able man.”  
Hawke grinned. “Hear that, Bran? I'm a Serah.”  
Bran snorted. “As if. The day you are anything but a troublemaker is the day I become Divine.”  
Hawke’s grin never faltered. “Hey, chin up. That day might come sooner than you think. I hear someone put your name up as a candidate for the Sunburst Throne if the present Divine keels over.”  
Bran was about to reply but Dumar cut him off. “That's enough you two! You are both adults, now act like it.”  
Hawke looked around, confused. “Adults? Where? I don't see any adults here.”  
Bran bristled with anger. “You are speaking to the Viscount! Show some respect.”  
Hawke stuck his tongue out. Bran growled and made a move towards the bearded man who simply grinned.  
“I said, that's enough!” Dumar barked. Bran froze, tensing up.  
“Instead of bickering like Magistrates, how about we figure out a way to get rid of the bandits?”  
Hawke stretched, as if bored with the idea. “I have a solution.”  
“And what might your ‘solution’ be?” Scoffed Bran.  
“It's very simple actually. You let me and my friends take care of these bandits. It's seems like that is you guy’s solution to everything. Just send Hawke and company out to solve all your problems. And half the time, all the time, you don't even pay us for our troubles.”  
Bran snickered. “Why should we pay someone that sleeps with elven whores in his downtime? Word spreads quickly in this city. We know all about your tryst with that elf and truthfully, we find the whole thing a disgrace...to…” Bran slowly came to a stop as he noticed Hawke staring at him. He could see a fire in his eyes that he had never seen before. Hawke was glaring at him with cold blooded murder in his eyes. And it frightened Bran. Though he would never admit it.  
“Bran, you do realize that I could melt you down to ashes before the guards outside this room even hear your screams, right? I hope you know that. Because if you talk shit about my Merrill again, that will be your fate. That I promise you.”  
Bran was taken back. “You can't talk to me like that! I'll have you put in the Gallows for that!”  
Dumar coughed. “In Hawke’s defense Bran, you did just call his lover a whore. And as for his idea, why not? Hawke and his friends have done good work before. I say we let them handle this situation. I trust them to get rid of the bandits.”  
Hawke bowed slightly. “Thank you. As of a few seconds ago, I need some people to take my anger out on and bandits are perfect. Until the next time you need me. Viscount Dumar. Spineless Bran.” Hawke said as he left, heading out to gather up some members of his misfit family.  
He rounded up a couple of his pals and they set off for the Wounded Coast to sniff out these bandits. He brought along Fenris, Sebastian, and Isabela. Some muscle, some covering fire, and some backup. It was all he needed to exterminate some bandit filth.   
He filled them in on the situation as they hiked up towards the Coast.   
“Must we always choose murder as our first action with men such as they? Why not try a peaceful solution every now and then?” Sebastian asked as they walked.  
“These men are murderers and thieves themselves. Why shouldn’t we do the world a favor and strip them of life?” Fenris argued.  
“We _are_ using a peaceful solution.” Hawke said. “Killing them outright is peaceful compared to the city’s ‘justice’ system. At least our way, they'll die quickly.”  
Sebastian went to open his mouth then paused. Hawke did have a point. Kirkwall’s justice system was a faulty one to say the least. And a quick death was far more merciful than what the city would hand out.   
Isabela shrugged. “As long as we get to sift through their loot before we let the guards collect what they stole.”  
Hawke grinned. “See, this is why we're friends.”  
Sebastian gagged. “Stealing from the dead is disgraceful.”  
Isabela snickered. “No, stealing from the dead is profitable. Besides, it isn't like the dead are gonna use their coins on anything after they're dead and all.”  
“I'll second that.” Hawke said cheerfully.  
“And I'll third that.” Fenris chimed in.  
Sebastian groaned but gave up. It was near impossible to get the others onto his side of the fence. It was about time he just threw his hands up and go with it.  
They continued for another two miles or so before they reached the bandit’s last known location. Which as it happened, was the group’s only known location. The only reason why they hadn't been caught before was that on a bare faced cliff, one could see anything coming from a mile away. If anyone tried to reach them, one of the lookouts would spot them coming and give the warning signal, giving the group plenty of time to escape. There was no way for them to get caught. It was simply impossible.  
Unless you were Hawke.  
During the first year he had lived in Kirkwall, he had studied the Wounded Coast until he could transverse it in his sleep. He knew it inside and out, every nook and cranny, every secret. In the Wounded Coast, there was no way and nowhere to hide from Hawke. Of course, if also helped if one had magic.  
Hawke cast a spell over them so that they would blend in, so to say, with their surroundings. It didn't make them entirely invisible but it camouflaged them well enough so that no one could see them coming on the horizon. He had used the spell several times before and each time, it had worked marvelously. Plus, it was dark out, which would make it even harder to see them.  
They moved silently up to the group of bandits. The group was merrymaking after their latest exploit. They had intercepted a large caravan of merchants and their goods earlier that morning and was now sorting through their stolen goods while some of them were drinking. The leader, Kolbert, was squatting down counting the gold coins they had ‘found’. He was the brains behind this operation as well as the main muscle. He was huge, easily six feet tall, with the muscles to further intimate anyone who challenged him. For weapons, he had two large broadswords, which he wielded masterfully. The dumb feared his prowess in battle and the smart respected his intelligence outside of a fight. He was the perfect leader for this group of ruffians and cutthroats.  
Isabela, who was the stealthiest of the group, was the first to reach the bandit’s camp. She snuck past all the sentries and headed to where a number of them were sitting around a campfire, drinking and boasting. She sneaked up behind one, a large bearded man with a mug of ale in his hands, and with one deft move, slit the man’s throat.   
Mass confusion ensued.   
Those closest to the man jumped with surprise and horror as the man next to them clutched his slit throat before collapsing to the dirt, a bloody mess. The men sitting beside him were cut down just as quickly by some unknown force. The camp erupted into chaos as men scrambled to arm themselves. Isabela, silent as a snake, killed four more men before the rest started to figure out what was going on. She killed one and his buddies slashed at the air wildly, almost cutting her arm off before she jumped back. One man cried out in pain as an arrow came out of the shadows and stuck him in the shoulder. The other man silently fell with an arrow jutting out of his neck.   
On the other side of the camp, one man that was reaching for his axe was suddenly cleaved in two. His friend ran up to him then stopped short as what appeared to be a sword pushed through his gut. With the man still stuck on his sword, Fenris picked the man up and suspended him in the air, further causing the bandits to freak out as it looked like some unknown force was holding their comrade as if he was weightless.  
Hawke grinned as he whispered, getting rid of the spell. And suddenly there was four strangers amongst the bandits. With a jolt they realized that what was attacking them wasn't some unknown force but was just mere mortals. Then they realized there was just four of them: an archer, a prowler, a warrior, and a mage. The mage appeared in the middle of them, close to Kolbert.   
Kolbert, who had already retrieved his two broadswords, jumped when the mage appeared but recovered rather quickly. His men that were closest to the mage lunged forward to attack. With one twirl of his staff, the mage lit five of them on fire and with another twirl, froze another two to death. And the mage did it all with a grin on his face.   
Kolbert growled. This mage was killing his men with ease. And good men were hard to find these days. Something had to be done.  
Kolbert calmly walked over to where the mage stood, daring his men to attack. The mage turned his attention to Kolbert and Kolbert blinked in recognition. He recognized this man. Or at least, recognized his reputation. This was the mage named Hawke. There was no mistaking that wild beard and unruly hair. This man was well known in the underworld, well known as someone not to mess with. Kolbert snorted. He was well known as someone not to mess with as well. And thought Hawke was a mage, Kolbert was confident in his own abilities. Soon, he would have one less problem to worry about.  
Hawke eyed the man with two broadswords cheerfully. “You the leader of this merry bunch of merrymaking bandits? You seem the leadering type.”  
Kolbert spat at his feet.   
Hawke shrugged. If the man didn't want to talk, they didn't have to talk. Which was a good thing actually. Talking in the middle of a fight often proved hazardous to one’s health.   
Fast as lightning, Kolbert suddenly rushed Hawke, closing the gap between them in seconds. Hawke’s staff was a blade as well and he used it now to block the other man's weapons. He twisted it around, smacking Kolbert in the jaw. The blow stung but wasn't strong enough to do any real damage. The problem now for both of them was range. Both were using long weapons not suitable for close combat. Up close, a staff was about as good a weapon as a walking stick. And the same held true for broadswords, which are best used when one has a little bit of room between their opponent. But both men were seasoned fighters and found a way to adjust. They knew that if they didn't, they'd die. And who has time for that these days?  
They circled each other at that short distance. Then Hawke spun his staff around and a geyser of fire erupted from the ground but Kolbert jumped out of the way at the last possible second. Kolbert lunged forward and Hawke sidestepped, twisting his staff, knocking one of the other man’s broadswords out of his hands. But as he did so, Kolbert used the other broadsword to shove Hawke. Hawke stumbled, losing his grip on his staff in the process. Now it was Kolbert’s turn to grin as the mage was now without a staff and thus, defenseless. But then he noticed that Hawke was still grinning. In fact, Hawke, like most mages, didn't need a staff to use his magic. Staves simply helped harness the user’s magic, it wasn't the source. Hawke grunted. You'd think someone like a leader of a bandit group would know that.   
Kolbert, with a roar, lunged at him but was stopped frozen in his tracks as Hawke raised his hands in the air. Using magical fists, he grabbed Kolbert’s arms, and pulled. Kolbert screamed as his torso was ripped limb from limb. In just a manner of seconds, Kolbert was reduced to a bloodied pile of body parts.   
What few bandits that remained either fled and were shot down by Sebastian, or surrendered and burned to death by Hawke. As the last bandit fell, Hawke leaned on his staff, smiling to himself. “Well...that was fun.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And hope you caught on to the similarities with Hawke and Kolbert's fight to the da2 trailer fight. Anyway, leave a comment if you feel so inclined and there'll be more chapters later! And feel free to give me some prompts if you want(I'll always gladly do them for ya cuz I'm a sucker) :)


	11. Bad Dreams and Comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke has some bad dreams and gets some comforting words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it has been a while since I last posted a chapter! I've been real busy with school and work and personal things so I have not had as much time to write as id like to have had but I am back now for the most part! Hope you enjoy

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Merrill awoke to Hawke’s cries. It was late at night and the two had gone to bed early after a long day. Stump, who had fallen asleep at the foot of the bed, was now whimpering softly and pawing at Hawke’s side of the bed. Merrill sat up and looked over at Hawke, who was twitching and crying out in his sleep. 

At first she thought that he must have been dreaming in the Fade but it wasn't that; she knew what that looked like. No, Hawke was just having a normal non-mage related bad dream. 

She reached out and shook him slightly, asking quietly if he was okay. He jumped awake shouting, “Bethany!”

Hawke looked around frantically, and realizing where he was, he started to breathe again. Merrill eyed him worriedly. This wasn't the first time he had woken up from his dreams and it probably wasn't going to be the last, either. 

Merrill reached out and touched his face tenderly. He closed his eyes, breathing shakily. 

“Your alright.” She said softly. 

He trembled. “No. I'm not.” 

She blinked. And moved closer, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Whatever you are, I'm here.”

Hawke sighed. “Had another bad dream. Damn things are getting annoying.” He said, forcing himself to smile.

“And what was this one about? Nothing too frightening, I hope?” She had a guess but didn't want to be rude and assume. 

Hawke blinked back his tears. “Of Bethany. Of her...of...of her death. And of Carver’s in the Deep Roads. And of my mother. I see them all when I sleep, even my father. I fall asleep and I know I’m alone with no family. Aside from Uncle Gamlen but I don’t count him.”

Merrill tightened her hug. “You have me. You are never alone. Except when you are bathing or something.”

Hawke smiled. Every time Merrill tried to comfort him, she ended up saying something that made him forget all his troubles. Merrill might not think it, but her attempts to comfort him did wonders. She just had a way to make most of the pain go away. Most of it but not all of it. It never all went away. But she helped lessen it. 

“I’m worried about you. This is the third time this has happened this week.” Merrill said sweetly. 

Hawke shrugged the comment aside. “We all get bad dreams sometimes.”

Merrill raised an eye at him. “Every week?”

Hawke opened his mouth to answer then shut it promptly. She had a point. Not many people had bad dreams every week, much less almost every day. 

“You know something Merrill? You are smarter than you let on. And sweeter than I deserve.” Hawke said with a smile.

Merrill blushed. “I try. Now come on, let’s get some more sleep.”

 

The next day saw Hawke heading towards the Chantry, of all places. Normally he wouldn’t be caught dead among the sisters, he’d catch fire the second he stepped in. But occasionally he found comfort talking to Grand Cleric Elthina about more pressing issues going on. Or just personal things stuck on his mind. Besides, it was good to get a different take on things every now and then.

As he walked along the streets of Kirkwall towards the Chantry building, people would stop and stare at him and get out of his way. Almost everyone in the city knew who he was, of his reputation, and could pick him out in a crowd. He was famous: the Ferelden refugee that rose through the ranks of nobility and fame. He had made a name of himself throughout the past several years. He was Hawke, the heir of the Amell estate. The man who was feared by the bandits and other scum of the city and the man whom all the nobles hated for being a jokester and even worse, a mage. The man that everyone respected and feared. Thus, the looks.

Hawke was used to them at that point. In fact, he liked the attention. He always thought that the best way to avoid a fight was just have the other guy know you have killed hordes of bandits and demons and other such abominations.

Stump walked beside him, stopping every few feet to sniff the air. Hawke was partially taking his ever faithful buddy out for a nice stroll but halfway decided to head to the Chantry. 

The two rounded a corner and the Chantry came into view. Standing outside it, almost as in wait, was Sebastian and his blinding white armor. They locked eyes and Hawke cursed under his breath, turning around as if he had just remembered something but it was too late.

“Hawke? Have you come to pray?” Sebastian said as he ran over.

Hawke grinned. “Actually I’m here to fill the Chantry with a bunch of earwigs.”

Sebastian raised an eye. “Really, Hawke? But you did that last week. I’m sure once is a good enough ‘prank’, don’t you think?”

Hawke scowled. “Fine. I’m here to talk to the old lady.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at first but once he realized that Hawke was serious, his face lit up. “Really? Have you returned to the faith?”

Hawke laughed. “What? Andraste’s tits, no! I’m just here to have a chat.”

Sebastian frowned. But he was used to Hawke slandering Andraste. 

Hawke chuckled as they stepped inside the church. As annoyingly religious Sebastian was, he was alright in Hawke’s book. 

As they stepped through the large golden doors and Hawke instantly felt the need to run back outside. He had never been good with Chantries and churches and the like. Mainly because Chantry folk typically don’t take to mages that well.

He followed Sebastian with Stump trailing behind, up the grand stairs to the huge golden statue of Andraste where they found the Grand Cleric praying as usual. Hawke found praying useless for the most part. Yes, it was good to get things off your chest from time to time but when it came down to it, praying never stops an arrow finding its way into your buddy’s neck or curing your dog of a sickness or anything. Though he didn’t mind those who pray, just those that thought praying actually solves all your problems. 

Sebastian stood, waiting for the Grand Cleric to finish but Hawke was never the respectable type. 

“Do you ever just picture Andraste naked? Wouldn’t that be a lovely sight?” Hawke said suddenly, shaking the cleric up. “I’m sure she’s got some nice breasts, though I can never tell ‘cuz she has that blasted robe on all the time. Ooh I bet you she’s hairy too. You know, from the whole ‘innocence and purity’ thing.”

The old lady stood up slowly and turned to face them. She had recognized the voice even before she saw the speaker. Even though Hawke was a rare sight to see in the Chantry. She noted that Sebastian looked about ready to put an arrow through Hawke’s mouth for saying such blasphemous things but she, like Merrill, could see through Hawke’s snarky comments to see what they really were: hints that he was nervous and feeling lost.

“Peace, Sebastian. Can you please give us some space?” Elthina asked.

Sebastian, though still fuming, nodded and backed off leaving the Grand Cleric and Hawke alone. 

Elthina smiled warmly at Hawke who shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like being alone with her. She was like a grandmother that knew when you had done something bad and would wait for you to confess what you had done.

“Serah Hawke. What brings you here today?” She asked sweetly.

The heavily bearded man shrugged. “Just  taking Stump, the Mabari over there that’s chewing on the leg of that pew seat, out for a walk. Thought I’d come in here so he can chew off the robes of the Sisters.”

Elthina nodded as if she believed him but he knew that she didn’t, not even for a second. Her next words proved him right. 

“Yes. And what is the  _ real _ reason?”

He couldn’t help but grin. The old woman was smart.

She stood, waiting for his answer but the more he thought about telling her, the less he wanted to. It was his problem and no amount of talking was going to get rid of it. 

He scratched his head. “Ahh, coming here was a bad idea. I don’t even know why I came.”

“Maybe the Maker wanted you to come here today?”

He chuckled. “And I’m sure the Maker wanted me to wear this shirt today as well, huh?”

Elthina blinked. “If it was his plan for you, then who are we to judge? Our lives are in his hands.”

Hawke’s grin left. “And was it his plan to kill my family? To have me watch half of my family die? To hold my brother’s dying body in my arms miles underground in the Deep Roads? Or to hold my mother as she died in the sewers beneath our feet? Was it the ‘Maker’s plan’ to have an ogre rip my baby sister in half? Was any of that in the Maker’s plan for me?”

Elthina nodded. “Ah, so that is why you are here. You miss your family and are wondering why the Maker would let these horrible things happen to you.”

Hawke shook his head. “No. I’m wondering why it couldn’t be me that died in their place.”

Elthina nodded in understanding.  _ So that’s what this is all about.  _ She thought.

“Hawke, I will not lie to you and try to guess the Maker’s plan for you. I know you yourself are not religious but everyone’s life has a purpose whether you believe in the Maker or not. Everyone has some reason they were put in this world. You may simply not have found yours yet. But I know that whatever it is, the world has chosen that path for you for a reason.”

“No one knows for certain how their life will turn out. That’s part of living. And if I know anything, it’s that your family did not die in vain. They did not die without a cause. Bethany died protecting your family from the ogre. Your brother died watching your back in the Deep Roads and trying to make a better life for the family. And your mother died happy, spending her last moments with her son. None of them died without a reason. Now you are hurting inside, that much is apparent. But you should not despair, you should be rejoicing in the full lives each of them lived. You are alive today because they saw something in you to protect. Is that not a good thing?”

Hawke’s eyes watered. It was perhaps the first time Elthina had ever seen them do so. 

Stump, who had taken a break from chewing on the chair, noticed his master was upset and walked over to him, plopping down in front of Hawke and putting his great big head on his feet. Hawke knelt down and buried his face in Stump’s fur, not so secretly drying his tears. 

He had had enough for one day. 

“Thanks but no thanks. I think I’m just going to continue my walk.” Hawke said, forcing the tears down. 

He turned to leave but Elthina said, “Merrill comes here, you know.” 

Hawke stopped in his tracks. The idea was preposterous. She was a Dalish elf; she’d never hang out in a Chantry.

Elthina explained. “She doesn’t come to pray to Andraste or anything so don’t be confused. No, she’s told me she likes that it is quieter here than the alienage. She prays to her elven gods.”

Hawke frowned. “Prays? About what?”

“About you.” Elthina said as she  knelt down back in her previous position in front of the statue and leaving Hawke a lot to think about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this kind of sad chapter! Thought I would do some touching stuff and pull on heartstrings. But feel free to comment and let me know if it was an good.


	12. Bloodstains, Swords, and Moist Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fun little chapter basically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I’ve been a little busy as of late but I’m trying to do as much writing as I can

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Merrill shook, blushing all the way to the tips of her ears as Hawke rested his head between her thighs. Apparently as he said it, he was ‘eating her out’. She was sure he wasn’t thinking about it correctly though. How could someone ‘eat you out’ if they aren’t even biting you? She loved Hawke but sometimes he confused her. 

But whatever he was doing, it was driving her insane. Her arms were waving about in the air, as if they suddenly didn’t know what to do. Her legs were quivering and wouldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried to force them to. And her whole body was almost convulsing from the pleasure coursing through it. What Hawke was doing just felt so good and incredible, she couldn’t mentally keep up. Before now, she didn’t even know that people did this during intimacy. Though she knew one thing: she loved it.

Hawke, for his part, was having a wonderful time as well. He loved making Merrill blush, and especially feel good. She had this adorable way of blushing. Whenever she blushed, she would often cover her face as if that would make her stop. The harder she blushed, the more she covered her face which in turn, would make her blush even more. The cherry on top is when she blushed the most, her ears would turn red. That alone was just mind blowingly adorable. Just seeing Merrill, who is usually rather pale, turn red all the way up to her elfy ears was enough to arouse every part of him. Especially if she was blushing because of what he was doing to her. 

He slowly and delicately licked at her lips, loving how each small touch from his tongue made her gasp. To be honest, he was surprised he hadn’t done this sooner. They had made love a number of times since Merrill moved in with him but he decided to wait a while before ‘eating her out’, as Isabela would put it. He had guessed that Merrill had never had someone do that to her and from her shock, it appeared he had been right. 

Merrill, bless her heart, randomly asked a question that completely threw Hawke off. “We’re going to help Fenris clean up that mansion today, right?”

Hawke couldn’t help but laugh. Here he was, pleasing her with his mouth, and she asks that out of the blue. Anyone else and he would have been upset that she wasn’t fully focused on what he was doing, but this was Merrill. She wouldn’t be Merrill if she wasn’t random from time to time. He even joked that the reason why she was random, was because she was thinking on an entirely different plane, far above everyone else’s thought process.

Hawke stopped, moving over to her side. “Yes Merrill, everyone is helping Fenris clean the mansion later today.” He said, grinning. 

She nodded. “I thought so, but I just wanted to make sure.” She jumped. “Oh, and I really liked that. What you were doing.”

Hawke shook his head, grinning. “Thanks. Now we should probably head over to Fenris’s. The others are most likely there by now.”

Merrill nodded, getting up to put her clothes back on. “And when we come back, you can keep doing that thing.”

Hawke laughed. “Sure thing, Merrill.”

The two got dressed, informed Bodhan that they were going to go out for a spell, and left. They made their way through the winding streets towards the mansion Fenris called home, hand in hand. As they walked, Hawke couldn’t help but notice the stares.

Most of the nobles would stop and stare disapprovingly at seeing a member of a noble family in love with an elf, and a Dalish elf at that. To them, loving a Dalish elf was worse than drunkenly humping the statue of Andraste in the Chantry. Of course, it didn’t help that Hawke had actually done that at one time. Hawke, for his part, had a foolproof way to make them stop staring. 

While having the eyes of a number of nobles, without warning, Hawke pulled Merrill towards him and kissed her passionately. Merrill was startled at first but quickly recovered, kissing him back lovingly. Hawke made sure to lock eyes with the closest nobles as he kissed his Elven lover out in public. The look on their faces was always priceless. 

“Is that really necessary, Hawke?” Aveline asked from behind them. She had been walking a ways behind the couple, not wanting to intrude on their quant stroll to the mansion. 

Hawke turned around and winked at her, noting that the nobles who had been giving dirty looks were all suddenly preoccupied with something else now that the Guard Captain was there. “Do you even have to ask?”

Aveline groaned. “Well at least don’t do it too often in public, okay?” 

Hawke raised an eye. “Umm, did you not see everyone giving us looks because me and Merrill are together?”

“Aww, people were giving us looks? Oh, do you think they were wondering why I’m not wearing any shoes?” Merrill beamed.

Aveline’s mouth twitched in a smile and she spoke in a hushed voice so that those closest to them couldn’t hear. “Of course I saw the looks and I think it’s disgusting. I’ve already made mental notes to have the people who gave you two dirty looks get ‘random’ house searches and inconvenient tickets.”

Hawke grinned. “Abusing your power, are we?”

Aveline shrugged as they continued to walk. “No one is rude to my friends. Not if I can do anything about it.”

Merrill frowned. “Who was rude?”

Aveline smiled warmly at her friend. “No one, Merrill.”

 

“Soo… Fenris?” Varric asked as everyone stood in a semi circle in the main hall of the mansion.

“Yes dwarf?”

“You’ve been here how long?”

Fenris thought for a second. “Around two or three years now.”

Varric nodded. “So just one quick question for you: why is there still blood stains on the wall from when you ‘moved in’?”

Fenris blinked. “I’ve been busy.”

Hawke raised his hand. “Actually Varric, the stains in the back room are wine stains. The red stains everywhere else though, is blood.”

“Thank you Hawke, for clearing that up for us. That would have bothered me the rest of the day.” Anders said with a grin.

Isabela scratched her chin. “I say we bring in some bandits and paint a picture on the wall. You know, really let our creative side flourish.”

Varric chuckled. “You really think ‘Mr. Broody’ here has a creative side?”

Fenris scowled. “How about we paint the walls with the dwarf’s blood? I think that would give my creative side a chance to flourish.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Must we always end up joking about violence?” 

Hawke, Varric, Isabela, and Fenris all looked at him and with perfect unity, said, “Absolutely.”

Anders snickered. “What else would we talk about? The weather? Perish the thought.”

Merrill smiled. “It’s really nice out today though.”

Varric made a ‘there you go’ gesture. “See? That’s not nearly as fun as talking about painting the walls with blood.”

“Oh sweet Maker, shut up!” Barked Aveline. “Can we stop with the pointless chatter and get to work cleaning up this hovel?”

She realized her poor choice of wording too late when the others realized she had asked a yes or no question.

As always, Hawke was the first to jump on it.

“No, I don’t think we are quite finished talking about bloodstains. I myself, am thinking of painting a landscape of the Wounded Coast over on that wall, maybe add in a few giant spiders and ruffians to give it that extra sense of realism.”

Aveline glared at him. “Hawke, so help me if you don’t stop talking, I will grab your staff and mount you on top of it.”

Isabela sighed. “Kinky.”

“That goes for you as well, whore.” 

Isabela laughed. “Promises, promises.”

Aveline shot dagger eyes at everyone before they slowly got to work, picking up the junk and tidying up the place. Fenris, Aveline, and Sebastian began moving unwanted furniture out to the front door while Anders, Merrill, and Varric picked up any trash lying on the floors. Hawke and Isabela got to work scrubbing the bloodstains off the walls using soap and water. Isabela soaked a rag in the bucket of water they were using and grinned at Hawke. “You ever been elbows deep in a hole?” She said, nodding at her arm in the bucket but subtly hinting at something dirtier and funner than their current task.

Hawke shook his head. “No, but I hear it’s fun to be elbow deep in a hole. Though I have stuck my staff deep up in two holes of equal fun. One was a pit of teeth and the other was a moist hole behind a bush.”

Isabela raised an eye at him. “I like the way you think Hawke.”

Hawke snickered. “I doubt Aveline has done either with her sword.”

The two held in their laughter for approximately three seconds before losing it. 

Aveline called over to them. “What are you two idiots laughing at?”

Hawke called back, “Nothing! Just wondering how many holes your sword has been in.”

“None? My sword is only ever in my hand or in its sheath.” Aveline answered.

Isabela snickered and winked at Hawke. “Poor thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this raunchy chapter haha. Next chapter will most likely be some fluff and angst


End file.
